11
The infant crying from within Ruan An’s belly was quite loud and incessant.
Sun Ye panicked inwardly, feeling fortunate that there were no outsides around. Otherwise, both Ruan An and the child in her womb would be taken for monsters. If some meddlesome person reported this to the authorities and had Ruan An arrested, that would be even more disastrous.
The crying gradually softened. Ruan An, still aching from the pain in her lower back, said nothing. After regaining some strength, she spoke calmly to the utterly bewildered Sun Ye. “Did you never properly read the Master’s Record of Miscellaneous Syndromes?”
Sun Ye had inherited the genius of Divine Healer Sun in medicine. The boy was even more skilled with needles and scalpels than she saw, his incisions and point location exceptionally precise. However, when it came to pulse diagnosis and herbal formulas, Sun Ye put in hard work-unless Ruan An forced him to memorize a few pages.
“Go to the kitchen, find some beans and bring me the Master’s Record of Miscellaneous Syndromes.”
Sun Ye felt quite helpless at Ruan An’s behavior. Even at a time like this, she still didn’t forget to teach him medicine.
But she was pregnant and overexerting herself, so of course he had to yield to her and not add to her troubles.
Once Sun Ye brought the medical book and a small dish of beans, Ruan An in a weak voice, instructed again. “Turn to page one hundred and forty-eight. Read aloud what the Master wrote in the record.”
Sun Ye looked at his father’s crooked handwriting, nodded like pecking chick, and read in a muffled voice. “For fetal crying during pregnancy, scatter beans, rice, copper coins and the like on the ground and have the pregnant woman bend at the waist to pick them up. This method rectifies her qi. Once mother and child’s breathing synchronizes, the crying will cease.”
After he finished reading, the infant in Ruan An’s belly gradually stopped crying.
Ruan An had never understood the principle behind this remedy before. But after experiencing various discomforts during her own pregnancy, she realized that the condition of fetal crying was likely inseparable from a deficiency of qi and blood in the pregnant woman.
A few days earlier, she had been concealing her swollen belly and disguising herself as an old woman to treat patients. She had tired herself out considerably and had not slept well, leading to the dual deficiency of qi and blood.
Thus, once her body had recovered somewhat, Ruan An sat at her desk, picked up a brush and wrote out a formula called Decoction to Fortify Qi and Stop Crying.
After taking one dose, her condition indeed improved. After a second dose, the fetus in her belly never cried again.
Once she had recovered, Ruan An was organizing the medical formula records. At her desk, she wrote out six large characters: “Record of Fetal Crying in Pregnancy.” She could not help but recall the events of that day.
The girl’s usually soft, downcast brows had furrowed sharply, then relaxed slightly, revealing a strength and resolve far beyond her years.
Motherhood makes one strong. After becoming pregnant, whenever something went wrong with her body, she mostly maintained a calm exterior.
As time passed, Ruan An’s feelings for the child in her womb deepened. Whenever she fell ill, the child suffered alongside her. As a physician, though she considered herself highly skilled, she was more nervous than anyone whenever something went wrong with her body.
Many times, she wanted to cry, but she knew she couldn’t. She knew that if she cried, the child would be affected by her emotions.
Moreover, the child in her womb had no father. As a single mother, she had to play the role of the strong one in its future life.
As her due date approached, Ruan An’s anxiety inevitably grew. Scorching tears fell drop by drop from her eyes onto the rice paper, gradually blurring the ink of those six characters, “Record of Fetal Crying in Pregnancy.”
Time passed swiftly, like a white pony’s shadow flashing past a crack.
Ruan An had not received a good education as a child, so when it came to hiring a tutor for Ruan Xi, she never spared any expense.
Her son, Ruan Xi, had just turned three and a half. He could already use his small, chubby hand to grasp a writing brush and trace characters on rice paper. The boy’s pupils were jet-black and clear, his chubby little face exuding innocence and docility.
Sun Ye observed that Ruan Xi’s facial contours, brows, and eyes closely resembled those of his biological father, Huo Pingxiao. Yet his soft, endearing temperament took after Ruan An.
Sun Ye had also grown from a mischievous boy into a lean youth. Over the past six months, his voice had been changing, and his speech sounded like a duck’s low rasp—not particularly pleasant to the ear.
Ruan Xi was practicing calligraphy earnestly when Sun Ye saw Ruan An, disguised as an old woman, return home. But her eyes were rimmed with red, and he didn’t understand why.
Ruan Xi also put down his brush and asked Ruan An in a babyish voice, “Ma~ What’s wrong with you?”
Ruan An shook her head at the child, unwilling to show her vulnerable, sorrowful side in front of him.
Just earlier, after she had finished her rounds as a traveling physician carrying her tiger-shaped rattle, she had found a tea house to rest. There, she overheard the news of Huo Pingxiao’s death in battle.
The storyteller there said that the Marquis of Dingbei had met his end in the deserts of Beiyuan. A sudden, violent sandstorm had swallowed up several thousand Li cavalrymen on a surprise raid. Later, the supporting Li forces found only some warhorses, the desiccated corpses of other soldiers, and nearly a thousand officers and men still missing.
The Marquis of Dingbei was among that thousand.
“Mother is fine. You focus on your calligraphy.”
But Sun Ye could see that something was wrong with Ruan An. He followed her into the inner chamber.
As soon as they were out of Ruan Xi’s sight, Sun Ye saw Ruan An burst into tears. The tears spilling from her eyes nearly washed away her old-age disguise, revealing her fair skin beneath.
Sun Ye’s expression was full of concern as he opened his mouth and asked, “Ah Xu, what’s wrong with you?”
Ruan An wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes with her sleeve, took a deep breath, and said in a somewhat calmer tone, “In a few days, I will take Ruan Xi away from Mengyang Prefecture. I will entrust you to the Commandery Governor. When you live at his residence, don’t be mischievous. Remember to listen to the Governor’s wife.”
Sun Ye’s eyes widened in disbelief. He asked urgently, “Why are you leaving? Where are you going?”
Ruan An didn’t reply. She silently turned around, found all the cloth bags she had previously used to wrap her luggage, and immediately began packing.
She shared the most traditional mindset of all the common people of this era.
Huo Pingxiao had died on the frontier. He was unmarried and had left no descendants.
Her simple thought was to take Ruan Xi to Chang’an and give the man an heir.
Ruan An decided to first take Ruan Xi to Chang’an to familiarize themselves with life there, then find a way to make contact with the Huo family. She would act according to circumstances, gradually allowing Ruan Xi to acknowledge his kinship with the Huo family.
Of course, if the child didn’t adapt to life there, she would respect Ruan Xi’s wishes and bring him back to their familiar Jiazhou.
The next day, Ruan An took Sun Ye and Ruan Xi to the administrative office of Mengyang Prefecture.
Ruan An had once cured the wife of the Mengyang Commandery Governor of an illness. So, when the Governor heard that she wanted to go to Chang’an to find her family, he specially sent a letter to Chang’an, entrusting a certain Li-named Junior Magistrate of the Capital to look after her and Ruan Xi.
“I have an old friend in Chang’an. He is also from Jiazhou in Jiannan Circuit. His name is Li Yifang, and he currently serves as Junior Magistrate of the Capital in Chang’an.”
As it happened, the Governor’s old friend Li Yifang had also lived for a time in Qianwei Commandery—where Ruan An and Sun Ye had previously resided during his childhood.
Ruan An marveled to herself. Li Yifang was only twenty-five years old, had no connections in Chang’an, and yet was already a high-ranking fourth-rank official in the court. He was truly a promising young talent.
What’s more, this man’s life story closely overlapped in many ways with the fictional fiancé Ruan An had invented earlier.
Aside from having successfully entered the Capital Magistrate’s office, Li Yifang also shared other traits with her fabricated fiancé: he had a widowed mother, and five years ago, he too had moved with his mother to Chang’an, where he devoted himself to preparing for the imperial examinations. He had painstakingly cultivated many connections and finally gained a foothold at the very foot of the imperial city.
Ruan An had heard that Li Yifang’s mother was in poor health, so she had purchased an expensive thousand-year-old ginseng root in Jiazhou, intending to give it to Li Yifang’s mother to strengthen her constitution.
Chang’an had strict household registration regulations. After arriving there, she would only have a thirty-day temporary stay permit. Once that period passed, if she couldn’t obtain a travel permit, she and Ruan Xi would be driven out of the city gates by soldiers with exile staffs.
So, her first task upon reaching Chang’an was to seek out this Lord Li and thoroughly inquire about the travel permit.
After settling Sun Ye’s future arrangements, the Commandery Governor of Mengyang hired a carriage for Ruan An and assigned a tall, sturdy escort to accompany them, protecting them all the way to Qixia Gate in the southern part of Chang’an City.
It was Ruan An’s first time in this bustling imperial capital, yet she still wore a coarse cotton skirt and had disguised herself as an old woman.
She and Ruan Xi stood in line with other out-of-town commoners, waiting to have their identities checked by the guarding soldiers.
Halfway through, when a soldier searched the bundle she carried on her back, he discovered the ginseng root she was bringing into Chang’an. He sternly stopped her: “You’re smuggling medicine. This wild ginseng root cannot be brought into the city.”
Ruan An had brought only one medicinal ginseng root, far below the quantity that would constitute the “smuggling medicine” the soldier claimed.
She understood that this soldier was likely someone who valued money above all else. Seeing that this ginseng root was valuable, he wanted to confiscate it for himself.
Ruan An held her black-wood poisoned staff, deliberately coughed a few times, and let her deliberately aged appearance show some weariness. She pleaded, “Officer… this old woman is advanced in years and in poor health. This ginseng root is to prolong my life. Please be kind and just let us in.”
The soldier frowned after hearing this and was about to put on an air of official business when he felt his sleeve being tugged by a small, chubby hand—
He looked down impatiently and met Ruan Xi’s tearful, clear eyes. The little milk dumpling was tiny, with an exceptionally beautiful face. Though his clothes weren’t new, they were very neat.
The child’s pitiful, teary gaze stirred a hint of sympathy in the soldier. Just then, Ruan Xi pleaded to him in a muffled, babyish voice: “Uncle, my father and mother have both passed away. My grandmother raised me all by herself. She’s not in good health, sob sob sob… We don’t have any bad intentions about smuggling herbs…”
Ruan Xi soon began to choke up and sob, drawing the attention of the surrounding commoners toward them.
Tears like golden beans rolled down the boy’s eyes, falling in a steady stream as he pleaded pitifully: “Uncle, I can’t lose my grandmother too. She’s counting on this ginseng root to stay alive. Please… please be kind and let us in, sob sob sob…”
“What a sensible, pitiful child. He only has his grandmother left to depend on.”
“Yes, it’s just one ginseng root. Why make things difficult for that elderly woman?”
“Though that ginseng root is large, by weight, it doesn’t even reach the level of drug smuggling, does it?”
Ruan Xi still looked up at the soldier with his small face, his black eyes brimming with tears. The sight melted the hearts of the onlookers completely.
The soldier had also heard the murmurs of the crowd. He knew that the newly appointed Junior Magistrate Li often conducted secret inspections of the people’s circumstances and had many strict rules. There was no need for him to stumble over this matter because of a single ginseng root.
In the end, he could only grit his teeth in frustration and let Ruan An and Ruan Xi through the city gate.
After Ruan An led her son by his small hand through the gate, she looked down and saw that although two tear tracks still remained on Ruan Xi’s chubby face, there was not a trace of sadness in his black, clear pupils.
This child truly was nothing like her.
Ruan An had discovered long ago that Ruan Xi was practically a little smiling fox. He was endearing, but others didn’t realize that this little bean was skilled at playing weak and acting cute, exploiting people’s psychology to gain sympathy and achieve his goals.
To have such cunning at such a young age—that took after the Huo family.
Huo Lang was notorious for his dark heart. Though Huo Pingxiao was a military general, he was also an extremely calculating man.
Ruan An couldn’t help but marvel at how strange blood ties were.
Even though Ruan Xi hadn’t grown up around Huo Lang and Huo Pingxiao, the child had inherited certain personality traits from his father and biological father.
Seeing his mother staring at him, Ruan Xi turned his little head and asked in a clear voice, “Grandmother, are we going to see Uncle Li now?”
The boy was very smart. He never called her “Mama” when they were outside.
Ruan An took a soft handkerchief from her sleeve, bent down slightly, and wiped the tear stains from her son’s face. She said gently, “No hurry. Let’s have a good meal first, then we’ll go see Uncle Li.”
It was May in Chang’an. Sweet elm pods flew through the air in the wine-scented alleyways and markets.
The Capital Magistrate’s office was located in the southeastern corner of Guangde Ward. Ruan An had just made some inquiries and learned that Li Yifang had gone to the West Market Bureau in the afternoon. She had paid some silver and already asked someone to inform Li Yifang of her and Ruan Xi’s arrival in Chang’an.
Li Yifang still had official duties to attend to, so Ruan An and Ruan Xi stopped at a flatbread shop not far from the West Market Bureau to rest and take in the customs and scenery of Chang’an City with the child.
A young waiter soon brought the cherry flatbread and plain tea that Ruan An had ordered for the child.
Ruan An had never been to Chang’an before, but she felt that the imperial capital was indeed different. Not only were the streets wider than the alleys of Jiazhou, but tall, lush trees such as locusts, poplars, willows, and elms were also planted on both sides of the roads.
Green locusts lined the thoroughfares; weeping willows shaded the twelve main avenues.
The Great Li was deeply devoted to Buddhism. With a slight lift of her head, Ruan An could see the towering pagodas looming beyond the vermilion walls. In the single ward of Guangde alone stood two large temples: Shengguang Temple and Cibei Temple.
The sky gradually darkened, and the streets of the West Market grew increasingly bustling and crowded.
Many young women, their clothes fragrant and their hair shimmering, their faces heavily powdered, walked by laughing and chatting. No one noticed her, disguised as an old woman, nor Ruan Xi, who was unusually quiet, seemingly lost in thought.
“Dong—”
The sound of the evening drum from a Buddhist temple came from afar. Just then, Ruan Xi tugged at Ruan An’s clothing with his small hand, signaling her to look ahead.
There, a young man wearing a rank-green leather-belted official robe, a folded-up kerchief cap, and six-in-one boots walked out of the West Market Bureau and began to stroll gracefully toward them.
The man’s features were elegantly refined, his bearing clear and bright yet retaining the solemn dignity of an official. Between his brows was a righteous air of propriety and self-possession.
He lived up to his name. Ruan An immediately recognized his identity.
This should be the Junior Magistrate of the Capital whose life story matched her fabricated fiancé’s—Li Yifang.
**